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by CrookedCat



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9848018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedCat/pseuds/CrookedCat
Summary: Jughead lost his only home, the drive in. Now he wanders aimlessly into the night, thinking about his future.





	

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this only 4 episodes of Riverdale has aired, so there will probably be a lot of wrong facts. I've also never really read any Archie comic so I can't draw any information from there.
> 
> English is not my native language.

The backpack clung heavily to Jughead’s shoulders as he wandered aimlessly along the dusty road. Although it was lighter than when he first packed it in the early summer, then he’d put down as much food as he could manage. Now there were just a loaf of bread, a few canned soups and a water bottle between his few clothes and the computer. His whole life, tightly squeezed together between black seams. Last time he’d had a plan, to sleep at the drive in until his 18th birthday when he could get his own place. Sure, the tiny hut wasn’t that comfortable but it had been good enough. And now he even had to leave his bed and spirit stove and head out into the unknown.

Jughead took out his wallet, a worn leathery thing. He could afford a few nights at the Riverdale motel by the highway, but since he now had lost his only source of income he couldn’t risk it. Food had to be the priority. He had to eat at school not to seem suspicious, but usually that was the only real meal he would get that day. Sometimes he had “forgotten” to bring lunch and playfully snatched some here and there from his friends, laughing to mask the sound of his growling stomach. So no motel, outside seemed to be the only solution right now. But there was one big problem that he didn’t dare think about: it was getting colder. Riverdale were no Siberia, but sleeping outside in the fall and winter was not really an option. At least not with the right equipment. 

His feet automatically led him to the diner. Pop’s were one of the few places he could get free Wi-Fi and coffee. The boy sat down at his usual spot by the window, he and an old trucker were the only two guests. The glances from the waitresses were those of pity but he couldn’t be picky. He usually went there after 9 pm when there would be very few customers. And when they were about to throw away the coffee to make a new batch, he asked if he could get what was left, he didn’t care if it was lukewarm. Nowadays he didn’t even have to ask. Since he sometimes stayed almost all night the workers knew something was up. But he wasn’t so naïve to believe his weak cry for help would change anything. Riverdale wasn’t the kind of city to call the cops on their fellow citizens. Especially not if they knew who his father was…

Now he had to be more careful though since Veronica’s mother worked here, but he could always excuse his actions with his eccentric behavior. And Mrs. Lodge usually never worked the night shift so he could probably avoid suspicion. Jughead rubbed his eyes, he’d barely slept the night before. The anxiety and worry of tomorrow kept him awake. He didn’t want to think about the future. He would have to, eventually, but as long as he could put it on hold the better. The drive in hadn’t been a permanent solution but it was the best he’d had. One of the older waitresses approached him, pouring up a cup of coffee for him. It was warm and newly brewed. He hoped his smile could serve as payment and she patted him on the shoulder as she headed back to the kitchen. 

There was of course the last option... Jughead took a sip of the hot liquid with the burnt aftertaste. He knew he should’ve told his friends by now. And he’d actually decided to tell Archie on that camping trip on the 4th of July. He even had mustered up the courage to ask if he could sleep at the Andrew residence sometimes. But then the trip didn’t happen. And then he got so bitter that he refused to even talk to Archie, and the weeks passed and suddenly it was too late. If he told them now it would be so weird, and they would question him and he didn’t want to deal with that now. This was his burden to bear. But there was also this part of him that was a bit hurt. Nobody realized what the was going through. Nobody asked. And he knew they were all caught up in their own troubles, but didn’t anybody see that his wrists were getting thinner? His pants were dirtier than usual?

The thought of giving in and going back home was tempting. He would have to go back anyway to get his black suit for Jason’s funeral anyway. He’d carefully thought of all the ways to avoid meeting his dad when he got there. But he refused to give up now. He was a survivor. Jughead carefully took out his laptop from his bag, put it on the table and started writing. It was all he had left now.


End file.
